Ask Hetalia
by Luna Safire
Summary: I just brought all of the Hetalia characters together in my new apartment to answer your questions and requests. I'm sure it will work out fine just as long as I can keep everyone from killing each other first. Wish me luck! Review with your ideas; rules in the prologue.
1. Prologue - Rules

Prologue

The room is enormous, with scuffed wooden floors and pale yellow walls. A massive whiteboard with three markers and an eraser in its tray covers about half of the right wall. In the left wall near the back is an arched, hazelnut-colored door with a shiny brass doorknob. An identical door is set in the rightmost part of the back wall. The floor in the very middle of the room is covered by a lavender rug, on top of which sits two overstuffed easy chairs – one a deep azure and the other burgundy red – with a little wooden table in between. The table holds only two sheets of lined paper and a sharp pencil. A roll of masking tape sits on the burgundy chair. Other than that, the room is empty.

Of course, that is about to change.

Noises can be heard from behind the door on the left, and said door opens. A tall girl wearing a long sky blue tunic and navy blue jeans walks casually into the room, her short brown hair bobbing slightly as she turns around to address the person behind her.

"Come on, Iceland. It isn't too bad. Trust me on this one," I say, holding the door open for the silver-haired nation. Then I look around more. "Well, okay, Poland might have a heart attack when he sees this place, but it can be fixed. Anyway, I've already signed everything. I own this place now."

Iceland sighs and follows me in. "You're right about Poland," he says, nodding at the room in general. "But you've already bought it. So what am I really here for?"

"You're here because Eesti's out with Fin today at some festival, and I'm scared of how Hungary would react to the rules. I don't need her twisting this into some yaoi party. And you're my third favorite country, so I picked you to help me with the rules."

"Thanks," he says sarcastically.

"You're welcome," I answer as I sit in the azure chair, choosing to ignore his tone. "Let's just list the rules. Here, can you write them down please?" Iceland shrugs and pulls the little table closer to the burgundy chair where he is now sitting. He writes "_Rules"_ on the top of one of the papers in neat cursive.

"Good. I like your handwriting. But anyway, we first owe the readers an explanation."

"And there goes what little remained of the fourth wall."

"Don't worry, Ice. It's fine. And the fourth wall was doomed anyway. Can we get on with it now?" I don't wait for him to answer but instead continue. "This story is dedicated to letting readers ask the countries questions or request they do something. I got the idea from Shoujo Fan Fiction's 'Fan Mail.' The difference is that this may have a little bit more of a plotline sometimes, like now. Now, first and foremost, remember that this is T-rated. I'll try to remember all the stuff you can't do for one of these, but even if I forget something, don't be stupid. Anyway, first actual rule: yaoi is allowed, I mean, it's Hetalia; it can't be avoided. Just nothing too weird, okay? And no incest. That means no Americest, Germancest, Itacest, NorIce-"

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Icy. Also no SwissLiech, USUK, Franada, China x any of the Asians, Belgium x Netherlands, or France x either Italy is allowed. Am I forgetting any?"

"I don't think so, but you might be. The point is no incest, adoptive or otherwise, unless you count FrUK. Britain's not going to like that, Luna."

"Well, I'm already taking away USUK. I have to give the yaoi nuts something to work with or Hungary will never stop annoying me about it. And she has the frying pan."

"And you're the author."

"You know what? Let's just move on. Just don't take the FrUK too far, people, okay? I need Britain somewhat sane. Now, going on, as much as I love Chibitalia x Holy Roman Empire, you can't go and annoy Germany about possibly being HRE because I have no idea how to respond to that. And we don't want to upset Italy. He's rather annoying when he's upset. Thirdly, I want to stress what is allowed request-wise. If I get a review saying, for example, 'Hey Luna, I'd love to see these Hetalia characters in a Hunger Games,' then I'll try to write a oneshot. If I love the idea enough, I may steal it for an entire story. Otherwise all of the allowed things are pretty basic – general dares, pranks, et cetera. Disallowed things are pretty much already listed. Just don't go swearing worse than Romano or asking for M-rated stuff and you're probably good."

"And if you ask for anything too terrible, she might just ignore all of your reviews and requests from then on," Iceland says passively.

"Eh? I wasn't going to do that, but I suppose it makes sense. So yeah, what he said. Oh, one last thing. If you want to come in and give a character a hug or something, that's all well and good; in fact, it's encouraged, but I'll need you to describe yourself however you want to be represented and give me a general overview of temperament so I can write you. Also, it's nice to have first names. I don't mind if they're pseudonyms, but I don't like writing '_kittenspuppiesunicorns!2348_ says…' all the time. So if you don't mind signing your review with a name, it would be appreciated. Thank you! You got all that, Ice?"

"Yeah. Denmark seems to like making me his secretary sometimes, so I can write pretty fast."

"Aw, that's Denmark for you. Now come on, post the rules on the wall over by the whiteboard. Then we can start shopping so we can have this place fixed up for next time."

"What? I never agreed to that," Iceland says as he goes to post the rules. "Go use Poland."

"Either you're shopping with me or I'll write you calling Norge 'Big Brother' a lot."

"What store are we starting at?" Iceland sighs as he walks back out the door we came in through, pulling out his car keys.

"How about Pier 1? I really want those chairs." I pause before leaving the room myself. "See you later, guys! Leave us lots of requests! Don't forget the little guys!" I call back before shutting the door behind me.

* * *

**AN: I'm so excited about this! Oh, disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, the country of Iceland, Pier 1 Imports, the Hunger Games, or really anything of note. Anyway, review with any requests or questions that follow the guidelines. I'll update as often as possible. Thanks, and enjoy the show!**


	2. I PruCan, glasses, and British Invasion

Chapter 1

Finland steps up to the door and opens it, not at all expecting what he saw inside. The room had been transformed. The farthest corner – the intersection of the front and right walls – is a kitchen complete with a bar with five barstools. Next to that along the front wall is a dining area, but the corner of the front and left walls is curtained off. In the middle of the left wall, an end of each touching the curtains, are three bookcases lined up with thin aisles in between. Between the doorway where Finland stands and the bookcases is a cadenza-style desk with a laptop on it. The huge whiteboard had been left intact on the right wall, although now its tray was filled with markers of every color. In front of the whiteboard a bubble chair hangs from the ceiling. Two sectionals mirror each other in front of the bubble chair, turned to be looking toward it. In what would be the corner of the back and right walls, new walls had been built to house a bathroom. Finally, the middle of the back wall has a huge flat-screen TV with a recliner and a couch complete with a chaise facing it. The middle of the room was empty. _Overall, _he thinks, _Luna has done a good job with this. Now where is everyone else? Luna should be here; she lives here now._

As if on cue, I step out from the curtained corner of the room. "Hi, Fin!" I call to him. "Welcome to the Den! Where's everyone else? I thought Eesti and the other Nordics were coming with you."

"_Kyllä_, they were, but I was parking the car and they went ahead. I thought they would be here too. Should we go look? And what's the Den?"

It isn't necessary to search, because just then Denmark bursts into the room, followed by the other Nordics and Estonia. "Wow, Luna, this place is great!" Denmark manages to call before helping himself to the refrigerator. Sweden shrugs and goes to peruse the library as Estonia sits down right away at the computer desk. Iceland and Norway bicker as they come in, but I ignore them and turn to Estonia.

"Eesti! I'm so glad you're here," I say, hugging him from behind.

"How have you been, Luna? I'm sorry I couldn't help with the rules."

"Oh, it's fine; you're here now. Any requests for us yet?" I ask, looking at the screen. "Oh, good, there are! We can get started as soon as everyone gets-"

The door bangs open. "WE ARE HERE AND IT'S GONNA GET AWESOME!" Prussia yells from the doorway. He leads a parade of nations in.

"Speaking of, it looks like everyone's here," Estonia observes. "Shall we begin?"

I nod. "HEY EVERYONE! BE QUIET FOR A SEC, WILL YOU? Thank you. Welcome to the Den – that's what I'm calling this place," I explain, gesturing to the room, at the confused looks I get. "If everyone would please go over to the area in front of the whiteboard – SEALAND, THE BUBBLE CHAIR'S MINE – we can get started, 'cause we have reviews!"

"Anyone else have a bad feeling about this?" Britain sighs.

"Nope!" Hungary grins. "I hope you have your camera, Japan."

"_Hai_, of course, Hungary-chan."

"Um, Hungary, there's a posted list of disallowed pairings," Vietnam points out.

"What?!"

I cut her off quickly. "Okay! First one! It's a direct email from my friend OtakuPotterheadGleek:

"'I want you to write a one shot of Canada and Prussia's first date! I know it's cheesy but PRUCAN FTW!'"

Prussia, who had grabbed a soda from the refrigerator before sitting down, did a spit-take. "Wait, wait, you want me to go on a date with Canada? Why?"

"Why not? It'll give me a chance to test the AU door."

"AU door? What?" Latvia wonders, confused.

"I guess that explains why you bought this place," Iceland concedes.

"Yes, it does. That other door? The one on the back wall? It leads to a staging area with a door that goes to alternate universes. When I have to send you guys somewhere absurd for a request, we'll be using that. Today Prussia and Canada will be using it to get to the township of Wilmot in Canada. You will eat dinner together and get back here. Come on," I say, taking Canada's hand and dragging Prussia by his collar to the aforementioned door. "Germany, you're in charge until we're back."

I close the door behind us. We are in a small room with a closet in each of the two side walls, a door in front of us, and a computer on a stool in the middle of the room. "Go get dressed," I order as I shove Canada and Prussia to the closets, Prussia yelling all the way. I type "New Prussia, Canada" on the computer, and the door in front of me shines blue for a second as it acknowledges the destination. Canada emerges first, wearing his World Conference suit.

"Are – are you sure this is a good idea?" he asks.

"You've got to do it. Don't worry, it'll turn out fine. I'm the author, remember?"

"…Okay."

Prussia comes out in a blue dress shirt and black pants, and I grab him and shove him toward the door. "Go on, you two. Oh, by the way, you won't remember the Den until your time's up. Now GO!" I push them through the door to the city beyond.

-/|\-

_"So… here we are," Prussia says awkwardly as he and Canada walk down a street in Wilmot. Canada only nods in response, so Prussia continues. "How exactly did we get here? I mean, your place is great, but I'd sort of like to know why we're here."_

_ "I don't know. I just know we're dating. I guess we could try to enjoy it and figure the other stuff out later. Do you want to know what's really awesome about this place, though?"_

_ "What?"_

_ "There used to be a little micronation here called New Prussia."_

_ "No way! That's totally awesome! What happened to it?"_

_ "It got disbanded. Most leadership was handed over to another micronation called Ayvea. In all honesty I have no idea where the representations are. I've never seen them. You'd think there would be one for each. I don't know. I wouldn't mind it if they existed. It gets a little lonely up here, always being forgotten." Canada giggles nervously. "But I hope you like it here. It's sort of yours, you know?"_

_ "Hey, it's awesome! Are you kidding, man? We have to find this guy who founded New Prussia! Old Fritz would love him!" He pauses. "And Mattie, you know I've always remembered you. The awesome me forgets no one! Not even you, because no matter how shy you are, you have awesome maple syrup. And you're kind of cute. I'm awesome enough that I can admit that."_

_ It takes a moment for those statements to be processed before Canada grins. "Thank you so much, Gil. That – that means a lot to me. Hey, do you want to go get dinner now? I know a couple of really good German restaurants near here."_

_ "This place just keeps getting more awesome! At this rate the next thing you'll say is that there's a brewery a block away."_

_ "Eh, not a block away, but the Grand River Brewing Company is pretty close and I could get us in for a tasting after dinner if you want."_

_ "Are you serious? What are we waiting for? Mattie, Canada is AWESOME! Let's go!"_

_ They remember the Den halfway through the apple strudel they share, but refuse to go back until four hours later. By the time they give up and agree to return, it's getting dark in Wilmot and both are buzzed from all of the beers, especially Canada._

_ "Hey Gil?" Canada says as they step, hand in hand, back into the staging room at the Den._

_ "What's up, Mattie?"_

_ "We've got to do that again," he says unreservedly. "That was indeed an awesome date."_

-/|\-

I look up from the computer where I had been watching them. "That was… an impressive amount of beer, guys. Thank goodness for amazingly fast nation healing. Still, in the meantime, go lie down." I take their hands and lead them forward out of the staging area.

In the time their date had taken, everyone had drifted to other activities. The Nordics are playing an RPG on the Wii in the living area. Austria is at the dining table, transcribing music. Italy and Romano are cooking ravioli in the kitchen. Britain is alternating between reading and yelling at everyone to shut up (to no avail). And so on. They all look up as we come back in and the room generally quiets down.

"Dudes! You live!" America exclaims, rushing over to his brother. "Whoa, Canada, what happened to you?"

"I was noticed," Canada announces loudly enough for everyone to hear him. "I was noticed by a very awesome person who introduced me to some very awesome food and some very awesome beer that I didn't even know existed in my country."

"And now you are going to bed, my dear Canada." I push him toward the curtains in the front left corner of the Den where my bedroom is and he manages to get there without incident.

"Dude, what did you do to my brother?" America asks Prussia.

"Nothing but make him feel appreciated, I promise," I interrupt. "Don't worry, America, he'll be fine in a while. Gosh knows Canada holds his liquor better than Britain."

"I resent that!" Britain yells.

"Hush, Britain. You're better than them. Show it. Now let's move on, shall we? We have other requests. The next is from betsybugaboo, who says that everyone wearing glasses or jackets has to trade. Alright, guys… that would be America, Austria, Sweden, Monaco, Thailand, Eesti, Cameroon, Macau, and Canada. Although I don't think we should bother Canada right now. So go on, people, switch."

The listed nations awkwardly switch glasses, the more outspoken ones complaining about the blurriness resulting. "Dude, what the heck is this?" America yells, pulling off Cameroon's glasses. "Your glasses are so weird!"

"You're nearsighted and I'm farsighted," Cameroon shrugs. "Believe me, America, yours are just as strange."

"Well, you get to deal with that for the rest of the day. I'd recommend none of you attempting to cook or drive or anything like that," I say. "Jackets, now."

"Aw, I gotta get rid of my awesome jacket on top of using Cameroon's glasses? Dude, that's not fair!" America whines, shrugging off his aviator jacket as many other nations shed their outer layers of clothing. Lithuania carefully trades his green military jacket for his former employer's leather one, swearing he won't let anything happen to it.

Russia begins to take off his heavy coat, and the room hushes as everyone turns to see what he is wearing underneath. I can almost hear the drum roll. It turns out that underneath his coat, Russia wears a turtleneck.

"Like, how can you even wear one of those? They're, like, so ew and totally not in fashion. Plus, don't you, like, overheat or something?" Poland rants. Russia ignores him.

"You will wear this now, _da,_ China?" he asks, holding the coat out to that ancient nation, who shakily takes it. It is far too long for him.

"Alright! Everyone has switched?" I check, answered with a mumble of affirmatives. "Good. There's only one more letter today, guys, from my friend DarkDramaLady, better known as Lila:

"' How do you respond to Britain's fangirling? Do you humor him or shoot him down? What does Britain fangirl over anyways?' Also, she wants Britain and America to bond over the British pop culture invasion…"

"Luna, love, does this Lila even watch Hetalia? And what the bloody hell possessed her to call me a… fangirl, was it? I'm very obviously not female," Britain complains. France starts to retort but thinks better of it when Hungary aims her frying pan at him.

"Thank you very much, Hungary," I say. "And no, she doesn't watch Hetalia. But let's face it, Britain, everyone thinks you basically fangirl over Doctor Who and Harry Potter and such."

"_Oui,_ and he does," France says. "I once saw him watching a Doctor Who episode, and he was acting just like _mon cher_ Hungary does when Japan sends her a new shipment of-"

I'm not sure whether Hungary's pan or Japan's katana is at his throat first. Either way, France ends up very much silenced. America is oblivious to this as he bounds to the TV, shoving a random Harry Potter movie into the DVD player. Everyone assembles to watch, Britain moving a bit more eagerly than most.

The movie (Goblet of Fire) begins with all of the nations watching said movie and ends with all of the nations watching Britain, who had been yelling at the screen whenever a character did something stupid. He literally has tears in his eyes when Cedric is killed. America, nest to him, grabs his arm and squeals, terrified, at the new Voldemort. When the end credits roll, he is still there.

"America and Britain bonding over British stuff, check," Hong Kong comments, and the two scramble to positions as far apart as they can get to on the couch. Hungary giggles.

"You got that, Japan?" she asks, gesturing to his camera.

"_Hai,_ Hungary-chan."

I sigh. "You have officially introduced an element of USUK to a USUK-free zone. Good job, Lila. Now I believe it's time to stop for the day. Go home, shoo, leave. See you tomorrow," I say, ushering the world out the door. I begin to get ready to go to sleep and have just finished dressing when I realize Canada is still passed out on my bed. Just then, the doorbell rings. When I open the door, Prussia is there.

"I've come to collect my awesome date," he states. "I thought he'd gone home with his brother, but he didn't, so…"

"He's still on my bed. Go get him."

"Okay – aw, s***, _bruder _has the car."

I sigh. "Fine, you can stay here tonight. On the couch!" I yell at his whoop. "I'm going to bed now. It's for days like this I have two beds in my bedroom. Now goodnight, Prussia. Goodnight, world," I announce. "Send in your requests! Don't be shy!"

* * *

**AN: Thank you, betsybugaboo, for being the first reviewer who is not one of my friends I half-forced into it! Just kidding, but seriously, you're awesome. I applaud you. And thanks too to OtakuPotterheadGleek and DarkDramaLady. Now, come on, everyone else, you can send in questions too! The Hetalia characters are ready and waiting! You will get virtual pizza. Made by Romano. Or, if you prefer, Belgium's chocolate-chip waffles. If you send in more than one question/request/review, you can get both.  
**

**Oh, right, disclaimer. I don't own Hetalia, the Grand River Brewing Company, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, or basically anything else.**


	3. II Hugs, food, & Prussia's Call Me Maybe

Chapter 2

Austria and Hungary arrive to find me staring at the large section of floor in the middle of the Den without any furniture or use. I look up when I they come in. "Hey, guys, what do you think I should put there?" I ask. "Oh! I know! A piano! Do you have any recommendations, Austria?"

"You could use one of my old ones. There is no use in a perfectly good piano going to waste or you wasting money on a new one."

"Sweet! Except I'm not sure how we'll get it in here. The doorway is rather small… oh, by the way, Hungary, no beating up Prussia yet. He slept here last night without making any trouble whatsoever, and besides, you'll get your chance later."

"What? Prussia slept here? Why?

"He came back in for Canada when everyone forgot he was here, but then realized he had no way of getting home. So both of them were here last night. Prussia slept on the couch, and Canada was in my bed. I slept in the other bed, don't worry."

"Where is that fool now, then?" Austria asks warily, glancing around the room.

"In the bathroom. Canada is hypothetically getting dressed right now. He got quite the hangover yesterday." On cue, both discussed nations walked out of the rooms in opposite corners of the Den. Prussia chooses to ignore Austria and Hungary in favor of Canada.

"Hey, Canada, how are you doing? That was an awesome amount of beer you drank last night."

"Maple…" the other country answers. "It was. Too much. I'm sticking to water and pancakes today, thank you very much."

"Oh! That reminds me!" I pull out my phone and dial Belgium. "Hey, Belgium? I promised the reviewers some of your chocolate-chip waffles. Do you mind?" At the excited yell from behind me, I add, "And Prussia wants some too. Shoot, can you just make a bunch and we'll distribute when you get here?"

"Sure thing!" Belgium says. "No problem."

I hang up just as a knock sounds at the door. A large group of nations make their way in, Norway and Britain at the back, talking about magical creatures. I pull them to the side. "I need you two to stay afterward for a while, okay? We have some special requests," I say. They nod, Britain looking a little confused, before going back to interact with the others.

I call the room to order. "Alright! Our first request of the day, from betsybugaboo: 'I'm going to be mean to Japan – everyone has to hug him.'"

At this, Japan boggles a little. "W-what?" he stutters. "I-I'm sorry, but this will be very uncomfortable."

"Aw, dude, it's no big deal, see?" America says and hugs his friend, who calmly exhales.

"Okay, everyone, line up to hug Japan!" I call, and the nations do. Russia's "hug" leaves Japan gasping. China's is awkward, and Taiwan hugs Japan as quickly and respectfully as she can. Greece and Turkey are too busy arguing over him to actually fulfill the request. Switzerland outright refuses, so Liechtenstein hugs him twice. I'm the last one. "Pinky hug," I say, holding up my hand with the last finger extended toward Japan. "All of the friendliness, none of the awkwardness." He allows himself a slight smile and then intertwines his pinky with mine for a moment.

"Okay! Next one! Actually, the next one will have to wait for Belgium. But there's a question in the meantime. Same reviewer. 'How does Finland know what Sweden is saying?'"

Finland shrugs. "After I ran away with him, we were together for a while. When you're with someone for long enough, you learn what they mean pretty easily, right?"

There is a knock at the door. Prussia jumps up to open it and hollers triumphantly when he sees Belgium balancing several large cases of waffles. He grabs one and runs, whooping, to the kitchen, leaving her to carry in the last ones herself.

"Sorry these took so long, Luna," she apologizes, "but they're done."

"And just in time for a request for the girls! Well, the girls plus Prussia, anyway."

Prussia nearly drops his forkful of waffle. "Aw, what? I wait all morning for Belgium's awesome waffles and now I'm being dragged off again? Not awesome."

"Yeah… I don't like it either," I admit. "You're too awesome for this, but the fans want the girls to give you a makeover, so a makeover you will get. In the meantime, everyone else can eat." I turn to the female countries. "Everything you need should be in the closets of the AU staging room. Don't touch the computer." They nod, and Hungary drags Prussia to the correct door as I set Switzerland to rationing the waffles.

Almost half an hour later, Wy leads Prussia back into the main Den. He now has gold colored contacts in and is wearing a long brown wig and fem!Japan's dress. Next to me, Estonia chokes a little on his waffle, and I thump him on the back. "You okay?" I ask.

"Yes, I'm fine, but I've seen that dress exactly once before, and holy Martin Luther, that was a strange dream."

"Ah, the Nyotalia strip. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head, Eesti."

As Estonia tries to formulate an explanation, Prussia sits on the couch in a huff. "That was unawesome," he declares. "I better not have to go through that again." Then Belgium brings him his waffles, and the albino nation is silenced.

I read the next request, from DarkDramaLady, to the nations: "Everybody has to try their least favorite food, or an exotic food from another country that they've never tried before."

The countries hush and look at each other. "So… we are eating the food _de l'Angleterre?_" France asks, breaking the silence. I cut in before the insulted Britain has a chance to brawl with France.

"No, not necessarily. Not yet, anyway. There's also Iceland's _hákarl,_ or Estonia's blood sausage, or whatever turtle meat China eats. We haven't exactly eaten much outside our cultures, have we? Belgium's epic waffles don't count," I say when Prussia opens his mouth to protest.

"Or we could just have someone cook who doesn't usually," Germany suggests. "Cameroon, do you have any ideas from your country? Most of us don't eat much African food."

Cameroon thinks for a second. "I could make some ndolé," he decides. "Just give me some time, and I'll get some ready. Perhaps you should continue while I work."

"Okay! Next question, from 'Hex the Ninja:' 'Germany, why is your face squishy?'"

Germany looks confused. "Why is… what?"

"Why is your face squishy? Hey, I didn't write it. They put a big Internet smiley face after the question, though, so it's not exactly a serious question. Let's skip it. Okay, the next questions are from CrazyAnimeOtaku198, or simply Otaku to us – um, actually, first, Switzerland, you're going through airport security. Or our version, anyway. Remove your weapons."

"Why?"

"For the next dare. Liechtenstein can stay armed, don't worry. But you are giving up all of your weapons. Now," I order.

Grumbling, he hands over his rifle, pistols, and dagger. "Swiss Army Knife too," I say, and he rolls his eyes and gives me his pocket knife. "Alright! Now that that's done, Otaku says Liechtenstein and Sealand have to go on a date."

"WHAT?!" Switzerland roars, and I'm glad he removed his weaponry. He glares daggers at Sealand, who squeaks and runs behind his date.

Liechtenstein pouts. "Big Brother, it will be okay. One date for the fans, and then we'll be done. Don't worry, Big Brother. I still have my gun, so if anyone attacks us, I can defend myself."

I add, "And besides, you can watch them if you want. I'll send them to a museum. We can watch from the AU staging area."

"…Fine," Switzerland agrees resignedly. "If it's just an hour or so…"

"Se'l'nd, b' s're t' p't 'n s'mt'n m're pr'sent'ble f'r y'r d'te," Sweden orders (at the confused looks of the others, Finland translates to "Sealand, be sure to put on something more presentable for your date."). Sealand nods and disappears into the closet when I lead him, Liechtenstein, and Switzerland into the staging room. He emerges in a polo shirt and nice jeans instead of his usual sailor suit. Liechtenstein had worn her pink dress to the Den this morning, so she doesn't need to change. They step through the AU door together when I program an art museum.

-/|\-

_ "Under normal circumstances, Big Brother would never let me on a date with anyone," Liechtenstein smiles. "But we just appeared here, so these obviously aren't normal circumstances."_

_ Sealand shrugs. "Let's enjoy it. Hey, do you have money to get into the museum? I'm ashamed to make you pay for me, but I left my allowance at home."_

_ "Oh, no, it's fine, Peter – oh! Look! A twenty-dollar bill! It's just on the ground… I wonder if it belongs to anyone," Liechtenstein says, looking for the owner of the money, but, as no one is in sight, Sealand picks it up and pockets it._

_ "Two tickets for twelve-year-olds, please," Peter says when the duo walks up to the ticket counter in the art museum. The cashier smiles and takes the offered twenty dollars, returning five to Peter, who grins. "Yay! We have enough left for lunch!"_

_ Liechtenstein and Sealand wander through the art museum together. Occasionally Sealand wanders ahead, but whenever he notices that Liechtenstein isn't with him, he goes back and looks for her. She enjoys just sitting and looking at the murals, while his favorite room in the museum holds old suits of armor. Once they get through most of the museum, Sealand complains of hunger and suggests that perhaps the two should get lunch. Liechtenstein nods in agreement, and they walk back to the little museum café._

_ "What can we get for five dollars?" Liechtenstein wonders aloud, looking at the menu board. "I've used Swiss francs forever; I don't know what I can buy."_

_ "How about a pizza? That looks like something we can afford to purchase and share." Liechtenstein nods her agreement, so Sealand makes the transaction, and the two sit down to a small lunch of cheese pizza together. It is finished in minutes._

_ "I suppose we should go back now," Liechtenstein states as she stands up from the table. "I enjoyed myself, Peter. Thank you very much."_

_ "You should be thanking that Otaku reviewer," Sealand shrugs._

_ "Yes, thank you." They step back through the portal._

-/|\-

Somehow, Switzerland had survived watching the date without dashing through the AU door himself, though I noticed him reaching for his missing guns a few times. When Liechtenstein steps back into the room, though, he grabs her by the shoulders and looks her up and down as if he expects something to be missing. Satisfied that his little sister had not been hurt in any way, he takes her hand and leads her back into the main part of the Den. Sealand and I follow them.

"France and Britain!" I call when I read the next request. The two nations look at me questioningly and I grimace. "France… you know that I love you – like a FRIEND, you pervert – and I would never intentionally hurt you, but there is a request that may cause you pain for a while. You are to eat Britain's food – I know, I know, I'm sorry, but that's not the worst part."

"What could be worse than that?!" France exclaims, falling overdramatically to his knees. I drop with him and look him in the eyes.

"You have to say it's better than yours." Britain looks absolutely elated, but then France actually faints, his head falling into my lap.

"And that's what happens when I try to get that to work, Otaku," I announce as I push France into a less awkward position and shooing Britain away from him.

I call the remaining nations to attention again. "Next dare: Belarus is to kiss Russia. In the interest of following the no-incest rule, it must stay on the cheek, but go ahead, Belarus."

"W-What?" Russia stutters nervously. I smile.

"Oh, Russia, it'll be fine. Just a little kiss. Go on, Belarus." Russia flinches but stands his ground as Belarus reaches up and kisses him a little too long. Lithuania breaks them apart by tapping Belarus on the shoulder. Her attack on him lasts long enough that Russia gets away.

As Estonia pulls the oblivious Lithuania into the bathroom to do first aid for the nasty cut he received from Belarus, I read Otaku's next request: "Prussia, I dare you to sing Call Me Maybe and do what Carly Rae Jepsen did in the music video while singing it." Upon hearing this, Germany facepalms, but Prussia jumps up.

"Kesesesese, there's no garage here, but sure!" he agrees. He has already taken off his wig and jewelry from the unwelcome makeover. Prussia grabs a book from the shelf before standing in the middle of the room for his performance.

_"I threw a wish in the well;  
Don't ask me, I'll never tell.  
I looked to you as it fell,  
And now you're in my way.  
I'd trade my soul for a wish,  
Pennies and dimes for a kiss,  
I wasn't looking for this,  
But now you're in my way.  
Your stare was holdin';  
Ripped jeans, skin was showin';  
Hot night, wind was blowin';  
Where do you think you're going, baby?" _He fans himself rapidly with the book before dropping to his knees, sliding the book out of his way, grabbing a microphone out of nowhere, and standing up again._  
"Hey, I just met you,  
And this is crazy,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
It's hard to look right  
At you, baby,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
Hey, I just met you,  
And this is crazy,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
And all the other girls  
Try to chase me,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?" _During this part, he bounces around the room. Germany gets embarrassed for his brother, but most nations are too busy taking pictures to notice._  
"You took your time with the call;  
I took no time with the fall.  
You gave me nothing at all,  
But still, you're in my way.  
I beg and borrow and steal,  
Have foresight and it's real;  
I didn't know I would feel it,  
But it's in my way.  
Your stare was holdin';  
Ripped jeans, skin was showin';  
Hot night, wind was blowin';  
Where you think you're going, baby?  
Hey, I just met you,  
And this is crazy,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
It's hard to look right  
At you, baby,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
Hey, I just met you,  
And this is crazy,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
And all the other girls  
Try to chase me,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?"_ Prussia starts to dance somewhat provocatively around the dining table for the lack of a car. Switzerland covers a blushing Liechtenstein's eyes. Hungary takes a tissue from the box on the end table._  
"Before you came into my life  
I missed you so bad.  
I missed you so bad.  
I missed you so, so bad._ "Finally he lies on the table, propping his head up on his arm. When Hungary takes the tissue away from her nose, it is stained red, and she quickly grabs another. Most of the micronations have decided to stop watching, and Austria's head is in his hands.  
_"Before you came into my life  
I missed you so bad,  
And you should know that.  
I missed you so, so bad."_ Prussia intentionally falls off the table and starts to kiss at the air. France and Spain, who have seen the music video many times, have been laughing their heads off for most of the song. Romano throws a pillow at them just because of their obnoxious chuckles. I happily supply him with more ammo, choosing to focus on the impromptu pillow fight instead of the Prussian._  
"It's hard to look right  
At you, baby,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
Hey, I just met you,  
And this is crazy,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
And all the other girls  
Try to chase me,  
But here's my number,  
So call me, maybe?  
Before you came into my life,  
I missed you so bad.  
I missed you so bad.  
I missed you so, so bad.  
Before you came into my life,  
I missed you so bad,  
And you should know that.  
So call me, maybe?"_ He had gotten up and started bounding around the room again, finishing the song with an air guitar solo that had nothing to do with the music or video. France is still chuckling, and Spain, America, and Denmark applaud. Romano and I throw more pillows. Most of the other nations are just gaping, Austria hasn't looked up, and Germany is as red as one of Romano's tomatoes. Hungary quickly finishes wiping the blood from her nose.

Finally, the room generally calms down. "Okay, let's take a break from the requests for now and just answer questions," I suggest. "Anyway, we still have to eat Cameroon's ndolé. So we can do both." Most of the countries nod affirmatively (Bulgaria begins to shake his before remembering) and Italy jumps up to help pass out the bowls of stew.

"Okay, first question, still from Otaku: 'How did Prussia, France, and Spain become known as the Bad Touch Trio?'"

"The fangirls gave us that name after the War of Austrian Succession was put in the anime," Spain explains. I notice Austria already reddening slightly at the reminder of that battle.

"_Ja_, and it's also because we're awesome," Prussia says.

"A lot of fans also think that they're the three most perverted characters in the series, hence the 'Bad Touch' part," I add. "France because… no offense, France, but your romanticism comes off a little strong."

"No, really," Britain comments sarcastically.

"He's never actually raped anybody! Really, Britain," I retort. "Prussia because everyone thinks he said he was going to steal Austria's vital regions, though I should point out that Austria was actually the one who said that. And Spain because… well, apparently, Spain, a bunch of people think you raped Romano when he lived with you."

Even Spain is sensitive enough to look shocked, and Romano does a spit-take of ndolé, coughing and choking for a second on what he was in the process of swallowing. "The jerk is a stupid idiot, but even he isn't that much of a b******!" Romano defends when he recovers.

"I concur, but moving on. The next questions are from Crazy Awesome Neko, or just Crazy. First: 'Germany, please tell me who you have a crush on.'"

"VAT THE HELL?!" Germany exclaims. "NIEMAND!"

"What about the dating book the awesome me found a while ago?" Prussia asks mischievously.

"HALT DIE SCHNAUZE!" Germany orders. "Vat the hell are you doing in my stuff anyway?!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough for today. Let's not murder each other. Next question: 'America, I love you, but why did you legalize weed in Washington state? I get that some people need it for cancer, but some are going to take advantage of it!'"

America shrugs. "Washington is the first state to legalize it, so I don't know what will happen yet, but dude, it's worth a try! And anyway, you can't smoke it outside your home, so it should be okay."

"Next, 'Switzy, can you loan me some money?"

"No."

I blink. "Well, you're a buzzkill today, Switz. She didn't mean any harm in asking. Now one for you, Japan, and I'm sorry about this in advance: 'Japan, what is your favorite pairing with you in it? Why is that your favorite?"

Japan blushes crimson. "I-I don't really have a favorite," he says, nervous but diplomatic. "I have read some interesting fanfiction that pairs me with Vocaloids, but…" he trails off.

"Okay then! Now for the last question from Crazy! 'Italy, what is it that makes your pasta so good?'"

"Ve, well, I use olive oil to keep the pasta from sticking together! Then there's lots of garlic and parsley, and _fratello _makes the best pasta sauce!"

"Okay then! This is the last reviewer, BrunetteMI. She wants to let Britain know she loves him. A lot."

Britain smiles warmly. "I appreciate it. Thank you very much."

"She also wants America to randomly start screaming, 'SYRUP! SYRUP! WOOT! WOOT!' I don't get it…" But America is already doing so.

"SYRUP! SYRUP! WOOT! WOOT! Go – Vermont!" he yells cheerleader-style. Canada looks uncomfortable, maybe even a little angry.

"Alright! On that rather bizarre note, we're done. Prussia, go get changed back into your regular clothes."

"Kesesesese, but this dress looks awesome on me!"

"I thought you said you hated it."

"I have the right to change my mind!"

"Whatever. Just change and get out. You're not staying another night. Oh, and Sweden, can you help move in a piano tomorrow?"

"'Course. F'nl'nd'll help."

"Excellent! Now leave, everyone. I need some peace. That took a while. Bye!" The nations shuffle out, Prussia following shortly behind (fortunately back in his regular clothes). Only Norway and Britain are left.

"What is this about, Luna? What sort of special requests did you get?" Britain interrogates.

"Fangirls who want to meet you two in person. I'll be right back," I say, quickly going through the AU door and coming back with two other girls in tow. "Guys, this is Otaku," I say, gesturing to one of them, a Hispanic girl who oddly has black cat ears and is wearing a Doctor Who shirt. "And this is Aimee," I gesture to the blonde next to me. "Otaku, Aimee, I imagine you already know Britain and Norway. Now have fun – um, not too much fun, but fun."

The two girls squeal and rush forward to each meet their favorite nation. "IGGY!" Otaku squeals, running up and giving the Englishman a huge glomp. "You're here! I'm here! THIS IS AWESOME! I love you, England!"

A very surprised Britain recovers after a moment and hugs back, then glances up in annoyance. "Flying Mint Bunny, shut up," he demands into the empty air.

Otaku looks up. "Oh, hi, Flying Mint Bunny!" she says, patting where I assume the little mammal is. The two start chatting about the "mythical" creatures that they can obviously see, but I can't.

A few feet away, Aimee and Norway are hugging. "Alright, you two, break it up," I say, as they are getting rather too close for comfort, and I need Norway to be available in case of other, similar requests. Aimee looks at me in annoyance, and I sympathize with her a little and let it go. Then Norway leans down and kisses her, just a peck on the shorter girl's forehead. She turns scarlet and squeals happily. I avert my eyes. If anyone can make Norway do that (in front of people, too!), then she deserves her moment with him.

"Don't tell _lillebror,_ or worse, that idiot Denmark," Norway says as he pulls away, shyness and tsundere attitude returning.

I swear I won't.

Soon enough, the two nations have to go, and so Otaku and Aimee wave and leave through the AU door, fangirling with each other all the way. Norway bids me farewell courteously and leaves. Britain follows, muttering excitedly about someone else being able to see Flying Mint Bunny, and I am left alone.

"Thanks, guys," I say. "That took a long time. Hey, next time, let's get some different countries involved! I'd love to do some requests with the other characters. Oh, by the way, I invited DarkDramaLady – Lila – to move in next door. She'll be bringing in some Harry Potter characters for an Ask HP! They should keep out of our way, but with Britain around, there's bound to be something that happens. I'll tell you all when she comes in. In the meantime, thanks for reading! See you next time!"

* * *

**AN: My gosh, this was LONG. 4,040 words. I get why most people who do this use a script format. Full "novelized" paragraphs take forever to write. Hence this not being updated lately. But thank you guys so much for reading! No matter how long this takes, there's no denying it's fun. And I'm being forced to write stuff I usually don't, which is good.**

**BTW, I started what I call my "Ask Hetalia diary" on my profile if you want to see the rest of my thoughts on writing each chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia (and therefore Nyotalia), the song "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen, Vocaloid, or Harry Potter. Or anything else. Except myself. I hope.**

**Do you people like the new cover art? I found it digging around for pictures of Norway for reference. It probably won't stay there long (it doesn't have anything to do with the story, does it?), but it's there. Oh, I don't own that picture either.**

**See you later! Make sure you review! Oh, and here you go, past reviewers: *gives Belgium's leftover chocolate-chip waffles***


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